I Love You from a Moving Car
if i tell you to stop being afraid
it’s because i mean it
my hand is dirty but you’re holding it, still,
a lovers’ pact of filth and permanence
god, how am i supposed to think about math
when the sound your name makes in my brain resonates fractures into my
ribs
“i love you” from a moving car
was never as sweet as i love you into a microphone
or i love you, goodnight
i am telling you to stop being afraid
because there is nothing to be afraid of anymore
the dark is only as deep as the lines in your palms,
only as lonely as the voice in your head
the monsters in your closet grew old
retired in the bahamas
-they wish you well-
the future is fortunate
-i swear, it won’t be that bad-
we have to wear glasses all the time
but isn’t it more beautiful to see the ones you love deliberately?
i am asking you to stop being afraid
really only because
i want to know if you’d do it for me.
i just want to see if you’d try.
Ani Bachan is a Scorpio who lives in Toronto and has been writing since her third grade teacher told her she was good at it (giving her a big head). She likes listening to music, cooking for her family, and pretending she’s in a Studio Ghibli movie. This piece came from a bemusing experience of getting catcalled outside a party, which prompted her to think of what it means to want to love someone longer than it takes to shout at a stranger from your car.
inlandiajournal 